Class 




Book /?fe^/ 



Copyright^" l^i^ 



COBfRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



PEGRAM DARGAN 



"Many a green isle needs must be" 

— Shelley. 



THE L. GRAHAM CO., Ltd. 

NEW ORLEANS 
19 13 






Copyright, 1918 

by 

PEGRAM DARGAN 

All rights reserved 



]0 A^^ 

©C1,A332360 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



JUTHOR'S NOTE 



'"THE tollowing pieces, with the exception of the 
last, were composed during a recent brief visit 
by the author to the Bermuda Islands. 

The news of the foundering of the " Titanic " 
having been received on board ship during the re- 
turn voyage to this port, the concluding poem is, wnlh 
this excuse, appended to the collection. 

New York, 1912, 



TO 



'SAW theni. yesternight. 

In jewels round thee shine, 
The proud, the vain — and might 

Have wished them thine; 

But on thy breast, instead, 
One bloom of breath divine 

Did deig^ to rest its head. 
Where oft had rested mine; 

And paled each jewel fair. 
As 'fore the eye of Him; 

For love had laid it there. 
And lustre could not dim! 

The world I do not own. 

To lay before thy feet: 
In these frail lines atone — 

Behold my wealth complete! 

With lordlier gifts abounding. 
Such some might deem but poor. 

But, if the rest compounding. 
One lily mal'e them more. 

In it my soul I breathe — * 

And offer thee; 
And, smiling, thou wilt wreathe 

The laurels best for me! 



CONTENTS. 

Page. 

Author's Note v. 

To vi. 

Ave, Bermuda ! 9 

To the Rubber Tree lO 

On a Sun-Dial 12 

The Cedar-Worker 13 

The Porker's First Post from Bermuda 14 

On Seeing Miss Swim 16 

The Islanders 17 

On Ablutions in Bermuda _ 20 

On Perusing a Certain Late Volume of Verses 21 

On Seeing a Dove, on a Ramble 21 

On "Lalla Rookh" 22 

Directions for a Patch 22 

The Excuse 23 

Reply to a Gossip 24 

Impromptu on Moore's Calabash Tree 25 

Lines in an Album 25 

Impromptu on a Pause in Conversation 26 

Ignorance : A Fact 27 

Cautioning a Lady Not to Risk Herself Too Far on the Cliffs 

of the North Shore 28 

To Some Ladies : A Rigmarole on "Change" 29 

To a Lady: Inquiring as to the Author's Methods of Composition 32 
In Answer to Moore's Lines, Beginning "Sweet Moon ! if Like 

Crotona's Sage" 34 

A Lament for Shelley 36 



CONTENTS. 

Page, 

The Isle of Dreams 217 

To Sleep 43 

To a Creole Girl 44 

A Retrospect 46 

The One Rule 48 

There May Be Brighter Spots 49 

The Return : A Prospect 51 

On Fort "Catherine" 52 

The Two Murrays 53 

Ex Libris Liber 54 

Thanks 55 

To Rose 56 

The Stream of Time 57 

In Love's Defense 58 

O Think Not for This 59 

Song of the Exiles 60 

The Dead Ship 63 

Lines Written in St. George's Channel 64 

On "Abbotsford" 65 

To , On Saying Farewell 65 

Lines Suggested on Viewing a Ruined Wall 66 

To Fitz-Greene Halleck 67 

Moore's Farewell to Bermuda 69 

"Rule, Britannia !" 71 

Nex Triumphalis 74 

INDEX OF INITIAL LINES 80-81 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



.AVE, beemuda! 



(( AVE, BERMUDA r sang I when 
JjL First my eye delighted gazed 

On thy shore, which to my ken 
Seemed Elysium: all amazed, 

"Ave, Bermuda!" sang I then; 

Ave, Bermuda F' sing I still, 

Now that I have known thee better, 
Breathed thy balm of vale and hill : 

Now, for many a joy the debtor, 
"Ave, Bermuda r sing I will; 

"Ave, Bermuda r sing I shall. 
When the sun for me is sinking. 

Far or near, by wave or wall; 

Still, of thy bright bowers thinking, 

"Ave. Bermuda!" — sing it, all. 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



TO THE RUBBER TREE 

FAIR Tree ! whose sweet benignant shade, 
So freely given one and all, 
Whom Ocean's heavy hand hath made 
Content about thy base to fall; 

Or when Sol's ever-journeying team 
Too near our little world hath driven, 

Or touched us with too keen a beam, 

Although that beam be shot from heaven, 

We seek the rest thy boughs supply, 

As birdlings in a mother's nest. 
While by the Hours as lightly fly 

As fell the feathers from out her breast: 

No flowers are thine, of gay or bright, 

But what at distance flowers had been 
Unto the eye, if seen aright, 
Are leaves still folded, not vet seen. 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

Emblem of thrift in mercies spent! 

Thy all is but to shelter all, 
And spend the talent to thee lent, 

Till He who gave it both shall call : 

Oh ! could my days be spent like thine, 
So sweetly by so soft a wave, 

So richly 'neath such sky divine, 
Still giving all that Heaven gave, 

I could not wish a fate more fair, 

Nor dream a doom more sweet for me, 

Than spreading arms thus in the air, 
And giving comfort like a tree ! 

How different, child of storms, am I! 

And bound and bent to wander far; 
Yet still at times, fair Tree, I'll lie 

In fancy 'neath tby boughs — which are 

To me that tent my tribe of old 
Extended on the desert hath : 

Their home — ^the all they knew or told. 
In some oasis in their path ! 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



ON A SUX-DIAL, PFMBEOKE CHURCHAKD 

STEAL softly, Time ! thy foot is near 
What all must feel; yes, even thou 
At last must to this silence bow — 
For whom what eye will drop a tear? 

The hours doth this dial mark 

Are naught to them that sleep below; 

But to the passer this will show 
How fast he hasteth — let him hark ! 

Steal softly, Time ! — even as I speak 
The shadow changes on the disc: 
Shall I another moment risk, 

Without amends ? — go in and seek ! 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



T 



THE OEDAK- WORKER 

HEO' bark and bole he gropes his way. 
To find his soul that lies beneath it : 
(So doth the poet with his lay, 
So doth the potter with his clay), 
While all the while a song goes with it. 



As resurrection moving death. 
The magic of his cunning thrives; 

Till, livlier gTowing at each breath, 
At last the dead thing lives ! 

And, lo! before your eye appears 

A god, or goddess — choose you which ? 
You smile and pass, I pause (who errs?) 
And, what within his heart he bears, 
I bear off, stranger, to a niche ! 



13 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



THE PORKER S FIRST POST FROM BERMUDA 

AGAEDEN of Eden— without a garden ! 
Save for some Adam's sole consumption; 
Where Nature smiles, but, by your pardon, 
Smiles at Starvation's lack of gumption ! 

The airs divine, the watei-'s blue, 

N"or fairer spot in all creation; 
But what is that to me or you. 

Who starve, or live on expectation? 

A Holland fen, a land of Goshen, 

Were really better for a mortal; 
And, at this time, more to my notion. 

Than this fair Isle, tlio' Heaven's portal ! 

Moore has some lines about here dying. 
Far more appropriate than much more 

He warbles, when to Xea sighing, 
Like skylark on his blasted shore ! 



14 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

The land-lord says that I look better : 

(You know what land-lords' words are worth) 

But here's the post — and so my letter, 

Goes — (wish I too went with it) — North! 



15 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



ON SEEING MISS SWIM 

NEVEE Nereid ever swam 
Thro' the blue deep like you can: 
Who in grace quite shame the swan. 
Or another goose I am ! 

So Diana thro' the sky. 

So a songster cuts the blue; 

But a rara avis, you. 
Can a heart cleave thro' the eye ! 

Come on shore, or I must go 
To my grave in yonder deep ! 
But on shore, nor rest, nor sleep, 

Till I've heard it, "Yes" or "No" ! 

By each wave in yonder sea ! 

By each sand upon the shore! 

All my days I will adore; 
All my sighs I give to thee ! 



i6 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



THE ISLANDERS. 

I MET a fellow swearing that it cost him "very dear," 
Xo matter where he went, and he was going everywhere ; 
The sea had made him sick, but his ''women" made him 

sicker ; 
Some people thought him "thick," but he knew that they 

were tliicker; 
But he couldn't count the money and he couldn't count the 

"cost,"— 
Some fools might call it "Heaven," but he knew that he was 

'^ost !" 
With a sixpence for his liquor and a shilling every turn, 
But he'd be turning homeward by to-morrow : 

Never more to roam — 

Going home to-morrow, 
Never more to roam I 

Now your porker quits his "diggings" in a frozen western 
town. 



17 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

Bringing- half his luggage gaping for the things that he'd 

"salt down," 
And who thinks to own the Islands for a song or for a sou, 
And to modernize the methods, show the natives what to do, 
that porker'll get some knowledge, he '11 remember very 

well; 
Yes, he'll surely go to college, (which he may mistake for 

Hell!) 
But he'll surely get some knowledge, yes, a thing or two 

he'll learn 
Ere he is turning homeward on to-morrow ! 

Never more a porker, 

He has been to college ! 
that porker'll get some knowledge. 

By to-morrow ! 

For your native born Islander may not be an Alexander, 

Or a Bonaparte packer from the West, 

He may've never crossed the ocean, he may have but a faint 

notion 
Of what's modern, of what's better, and what's best : 
If the band should play "My Country !" he woud take it for 

his "King," 



i8 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

And till Yankee Doodle comes to town he never knows a 

thing; 
But the porker, who it knows, and would lead him by the 

nose — 
O that porker's jroing' homeward by to-morrow : 

Xevcr more to roam, — 
Got enough o' traveling! 

Going home to-morrow — 
Never more to roam ! 



For, your native born Islander may not be an Alexander, 
But a porker cannot lead him by the nose ! 



19 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



ox ABLUTIONS IN BERMUDA 

FAIR Florence divine, a real nigbting-ale seemed 
As she sang to the soldier's rude pillow, 
Had a plan — ^it was fine, or so it was deemed : 
When removed from tlie fount or the billow, 

In her fair hand oxtendod, as slie highly commended, 

A goblet she offered each daughter; 
And from that glass she would make each fair novice there 
take, 

Not a drink, but — a Viath of cold water ! 

Should the Nightingale bere once chance to appear, — 
And she might, for bright wings she must own. 

It appears so to me. and I think you'll agree, 
That she'd have us all bathe from — a spoon I 



20 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



ON PERUSING A CERTAIN LATE VOLUME OP VERSES 

LIKE the century plant, that a century consumes 
In preparing to bud, and not much when it blooms 
So laboured thy rhymes, and so dense is thy sense. 
We sigh at the waste, and we damn the expense. 



ON SEEING A DOVE, ON A RAMBLE 

IF a dove did actually pilot Tom Moore 
To the bank where his Nea reclined. 
And the same sort of bird the olive bore x^J^oah. — 
Which a dove has just brought to my mind : 

If the first found his love and the latter a world ; 

Then what, in the world, does it mean. 
That a far fairer pinion than either unfurled 

On this most unlucky day I have seen? 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



ON LALLA BOOKH ' 

WHAT a name— "Lalla Roohh!" 
'Twould sell any book,— 
l^\('n Mai'kliam being tliereof the author; 
But tlie difference, Moore's Peri 
Entered Heaven when weary. 
While the former's must have stayed with his father! 



DJRKCTIONS FOR A PATCH 

AS the eloud on the cheek of the heavenly Luna, 
Is that patch that makes Joan to resemble great Juno; 
But, for heaven's sake, "Madam," don't so far mistake it, 
As as big as the moon or to think it or make it! 

Cut it round like an orange, or square it, or star it. 
But never a lieart, or, by Vulcan, you mar it! 

For a heart on the cheek is a heart on the sleeve: 
II may bring in tlie jackdaws, but the doves will it leare. 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



THE EXCUSE 

THINK not, for this, 
That I would miss 

One kiss from those delightful lips, 
Tho' greater danger. 
Than to stranger 

Appears to toss his side or ship's, 
Did wait without ; 
And thereahout 

A frowning sire, or a mastiff: 
I'd dare the worst, 
Tlie father, curst ; 

And, Cerehus. I would have past, if 

Thy hundred mouths. 
Thy master's oaths, 

Eoared all at once and all they can; 
But worse than these — 
"What was it, please?'' 

0, onlv this — anotlier man! 



23 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



REPLY TO A GOSSIP 

OTELL me not, 
Xo, tell me not, 
That she is false — she's never been it ! 
'Twere sooner true 
That truth in you 
Would be, where I have never seen it. 

Off with thy tales- 
It naught avails : 

If Truth herself to me should come, 
And it declare, 
And truth it were, 

I would receive it, how? — why, dumb. 

Then tell me not, 

0, tell me not ! 
She's false — as such I will receive it ! 

But, if she said. 

That you were led 
By goodness only — I'd believe it ! 



24 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

IMPROMPTU OX aiOORES CALABASH TREE 

FOE him seeks distinction, or would hang up ]us name. 
This precept we have from a bard of much fame : 
On a bough hang your "handle," and it clearly is seen, 
That that "handle" must shine wliile that bough remains 
green. 

Thus the Lakers, the lakes, and lord Byron the ocean. 
But a calabash tree keeps Moore here in motion. 

Yet 'tis pleasant, when sitting in such a fair spot. 
And drinking to Moore in a calabash pot, 
To think — who can help it ? — that quite even's the score : 
What's a calabash tree without a Tom Moore ? 



LINES IN AX ALBUM 

WHEN" I took up this pen and imbrued it with ink. 
And thought I'll not spoil a page quite so pretty; 
So set me to think — if ever I did think ! 

Why, I couldn't think at all — what a shame and a pitj'. 
But the reason was plain; and so plainly I told her: 
She was stealing mv senses from over mv shoulder ! 



25 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



IMPROMPTU OX A PAUSE IX CONVERSATION 

WERE you a fair bark of the ocean, my dear, 
And I a wave in your wake, 
I know you might well have no notion, my dear, 
Of the side that that billow would take; 

Or were I a sweet-tooth wandering, 

And you were a blossom outright. 
You might never discover, by pondering, 

Just when, or on what, I would light; 

Or were I a Peep-Tommy of heaven. 

And you a real cloud floating there, 
To that star, I know, was ne'er given 

To know what that fair Cloud would wear; 

But when you hold the bow of Cupid, my love. 

And I have hold of the string, 
What's to be thought of marksmen so stupid, by Jove! 

They can't "hit on" a blessed thing? 



26 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



igxoraxce: a fact 

?\ TEATH a palm that expajided liis grean hands to 1-' 
i N Heaven, 

As in tlianks for the place that that Heaven had given, 
A lady delighted, by me there invited. 
Thus warbled a ditty one eve : 
''Under the bamboo tree. 
Who loves to lie with me?" 

When what think you resulted? 
That palm, quite insulted, 
So heavily at it did grieve, 

That soon thereafter — 
(Spare, heartless, your laughter) 
That palm tree withered away ! 

The moral to find. 

For those have a mind. 
It is this (and remember it, pray!) 
That the rule of the mode is to slubber each name, 
That we don't understand, and witli trees 'tis the same. 



27 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



CAUTIONING A LADY NOT TO RISK HERSEIF TOO FAR OUT 
ON THE CLIFFS OF THE NORTH SHORE 

BESIDE these still waters, you so much admire, 
(So by moonlight her daughters, caught from dam or 
from sire, 
Still sing, as they sit in their Paradise bowers. 
While like owlets by flit the heavy-winged Hours: 
In these Isles lived a bard — (none has taken his place: 
A statement quite hard, yet still such is the case.) 
Now this bard, to delight him, full often would roam, 
Tho' the Tempest might frighten all wiser ones home; 
On these cliffs he would stalk, tho' the breakers might roar, 
To the tempest he'd talk, and the louder the more; 
But one night, as he stood — (no doubt it was near 
Where you seem as you would step out to it there ! ) 
Well, one night, as his hair wildly swung in the breeze — 
(It was there — it was there! — a little back, please!) 
Well, to end with my story, that the rest Ave may Join — 
The bard fell to glory, the proud cliff to ruin ! 

So when — do not do it ! — you would venture too far, 
Pray, remember that poet and that cliff, and beware! 



28 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



TO SOME LADIES : A RIGMAROLE ON "CHANGE" 

YES', "change" is everywhere, 
And old gives way to new, 
And foul to-day to-morrow fair. 
And black to-day then blue. 

That sylph, o'er slimness souring. 
Next season smiles to see 

Some stouter nymph wall-flowering 
Where she was wont to be; 

That hair, that vexed Diana, 
Some defter wears to-day. 

And wins where Di' had ran a 
Successless race away; 

That pin, that pinned a flounce, or 
A frill, in the wrong way, 

Another with an ounce or 

(rrain, more of sense makes pay; 



29 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

That pen, which Van abuses, 

(As Crabbe's to Moore descended) 

Some future genius uses 
For what it was intended ! 

The pill, that Quackitt rolled us, 
Some god, for pity's sake. 

Has changed from where he told us- 
And Quackitt smiles to take ! 

That bottle, we were draining 
In hopes to keep us stout, 

In bits, some high wall gaining — 
We see to keep us out ! 

That lass, that we now toast as 

The only fond and true, 
(Since what unchanged we boast as 

We teach it to change too) 

But one more glass of sand — ah ! 

And (what we'd held before) 
Some other holds her hand — bah ! 

And we hold — 1)ut tiie door ! 



30 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

When, tho' the latch Love lifted, 

(If latch it be supposed) 
The scene again has shifted, 

For Hate the door hath closed ! 

Thus, there are changes many, 

As all will now admit; 
But never yet was any 

Like this — we mean to quit ! 

Xext when you think to plague me, 
AVith "Sing us something strange!", 

But there's the bell — Say, flaggy, 
Docs that, too, mean a change? 



31 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



TO A lady: inquiring as to the authors methods of 

COMPOSITION 

FOE the bards transcendent, have glory 
Like M , et ceteri, to waste, 

Of them I can tell you no more, — I 
Know less than they do of taste; 

But, for my own particular person, 

The bard that is blessed with thy smile. 
Much study is his only aversion, 

And his study — yourself, for good style; 
That, in fact, the things that I scribble 

Are but drivel of a passion-drawn mind, 
As a cock that continues to dribble. 

Whence the gallons have gushed were confined. 

Thus the 'T^ravest" of "notions" are lost him, 
Ere the sable-hued tapster can catch, 

In his horn; yet so little they've cost him, 
That a twopence, or penny, might uuitch. 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

When I feel like a bard, I imagine, 

And might write, if my toes were foot-loose, 

To but see a pen puts me a rage in, 
And an ink-pot's a mouse to niv Muse ! 

And at night, when I lie on my pillow, 
Not thrifty like Concord's great sage, 

I'm thinking far more of the willow 
Than of scratcJiing a light or a page ; 

That really the world is now hymning 
Worse songs than I might it supply, 

If of writing I were as fond as of swimming, 
And of glory I w^as fonder, or "pie." 

Enough, if the trifles you praise so 
Can but please a fair critic like you; 

And the laurels may go, as the days do: 
Leaving you, I will not them pursue. 



33 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

IN ANSWER TO MOOEE's LINES, BEGINNING 

"Siveet Moon! if lil-e Crotona's sage" 

1D0 not care to write 
My thoughts on yonder moon, 
That changes every night — 
Tliey'd change too soon ! 

I have no notion, none, 
Of scrihbling by the sea, 

Where every wave, doth run 
To read, might blot out me ! 

To Cyrus' mountain neither. 
Where he inscribed liis glory; 

For fear the change of weather 
j\Iight change the story ! 

To page I dare not trust it, 
I've seen a worm devour it ; 

And Fag would never dust it, 
Unless paid doubly for it. 



34 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

In gem, I would not trust them there, 
For gems how soon are lost ; 

And, then, in style to put them there- 
Think of the cost ! 

In various ways have others written, 
But none of these please me : 

With only one sweet way I'm smitten ; 
Which is, please ye, 

With my own lips to trace them — 
Nor fear they'll thence depart, — 

And what so much could grace them? 
In mv love's heart ! 



35 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



A LAMENT FOR SHELLEY 

^ C jy yi AN Y a green isle needs must be" : 
iVi So lie sang, who never fonnd one; 

Bnt his music is a sea, 

And it circles round one — 

One and all are green to me. 

Or they lose their greenery 
Than in winter faster ! 

Ah ! what voice of sprite or bird, 

Or of mortal ever sang so? 
Heaven above has never heard ; 

Earth nor sea has ever rang so, 
As when late his lute he strung. — 

Neptune, in thy waves is flung, 

Ay me, lute and master! 



36 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



THE ISLE OF DKEAMS 



FAIE Isle of my Dreams ! how often, when fired 
By the page of the poet, or by fancy inspired. 
When the day-star had sunk, or at mid-night I pondered. 
It was bliss by thy shores as then to have wandered ! 
Thy bowers I frequented, thy vales and thy hills, 
Aye, each pleasing prospect this moment that thrills; 
As I bathed in thy sun-light or lolled in thy shade. 
Or I hailed the moon-rise, or I saw the star fade, 
I breathed of thy flowers, I threaded thy caves, 
VVliere the wildest of billows speaks peace as it laves, 
And the wealth of a monarch seems cheap by the side 
Of the gems that old Ocean has piled for his bride : 
(Tho' he scud on the waves, he'll return to his rest 
In a cavern like this, that his Thetis has dressed !) 

Or, by Fancy instructed, I sought out the shore. 
Where the tempest would shriek or the loud breaker roar; 
Or, with Pleasure returning, I turned to thy groves, 
Where the cedar never fades, and tlie Frost never roves; 
With thy soft-eyed daughters, still melting like ]-]ve, 
Inviting to bowers, but not to deceive ; 
Whose eyes, tho' as mild as the beam Luna throvrs 



^7 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

Wlien she peep? from a cloud, as tliro' snow looks a rose, 
Still how soon they can show that the lava's beneath, 
Where the heart beats on, never frozen till death ! 
Whose hands, tho' as soft as the roses they twine. 
Once plighted, will clasp as her bough will the vine ! 

Heard thy drums, and thy cannon that speak to the wave. 
The fife, and the bugle that calls up the brave ; 
Yes, I heard them, in fancy, replying to Jove, 
In thunders below as he thundered above ; 
Saw thy youths, clad in scarlet, the colors of Mars, 
Eesplendent beneath, as above them the stars : 
Aye, hailed each proud banner that flaunts in thy skies — 
The fairest that floats and the freest that flies ! 

And, now, in reality rise ye before me. 
For the sake of my dreams, how much more I adore ye : 
More beauty you have, and more meaning unto me, 
For the sake of those visions that fancy then threw me, 
In the days ere the winds of rude winter had chilled me, 
And my heart filled with ice ! — Oh ! how much more you had 

thrilled me, 
Had I earlier found you, and how different my fate ! 
j/ 1 Yes 'tis sweet, thus to find you, tho' never so late : 

I embrace the glad chance ; and I'd touch up my lute. 
For thy honor awake it — Oh ! let it lie mute ! 



38 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

For what should I utter, and how should I sing, 
When my hand has no cunning, and stiff is eacli string, 
like the minstrel of old, I might boast of some skill; 
But tlie way has been long, and the winds have been chill ; 
And the springs of my fancy, that in music had gushed — 
Alas ! they are frozen, and that music is hushed ; 
And the thoughts, that liad flocked, like the birds to the 

bough 
Wher^ their leader had led them, they never can now ; 
For the hand and the string tho' Affection should urge, 
Yet would Custom still turn every note to a dirge: 
That in vain I'd essay, as you'd wish, as I'd like, 
Tho' the theme may be new, the ohl cords they would strike ! 

And who would presume of such bowers to sing. 
And know of the memories around them that cling : 
Of a Waller, a Marvel, a Shakspere, a Moore, 
Who have deigned to rehearse them in music before ? 
Oh ! better to cease — best ne'er to 've begun ; 
For, when strains are so harsh, they're far harsher than none. 

Then what need I say more? — what more need I say? 
T)ut adore them in silence ! But I cannot to-day : 
When I gaze on these waters, when I look on this sky, 
W^hen I taste of the breeze, that is passing me by. 
So moved is my bosom, that, tho' Wisdom reprove. 



39 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

The liead may devise, but the lips will still move; 
For the tide in my breast, like the tide, sets in; 
And its way it will have, or its way it will win ; 
That stay it I cannot — it wiW not be stayed. 
Till the wind of reflection, aroused it, is laid. 

Aye, 'twas of such bowers in my youth that I dreamed 
Where the boughs ever blossomed, the sun ever beamed. 
Yet never too coldly and never too keen. 
With a veil, as from heaven, suspended between ; 
Like his sister elsewhere, while his sister shone there 
Like a shell from the ocean, suspended in air; 
Where the stars were so near, that we knew as so far. 
Each seemed like a fire-fly, not like a star; 
And so sweet were the buds, and so close was the sky. 
We looked for those fire-flies downward to fly ! 

Yes, thus had I fancied, there might be a spot 
W^iere all that I hated, or loved not, forgot, 
I might take what was left, or what Fortune might give, 
And the lost I'd forget, and the false I'd forgive ; 
With all that I treasured — to one spot confined. 
And all that I did not — to another consigned ; 
Where all of my world would lie in the view 
Of a bird on the bough, or a bird in the blue; 
And nothing so distant, in all my domain, 



40 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

But my hand might it reach, or my step might attain; 
Where, reclining beneath my own fig tree and vine, 
(Divine, if you like, just because it was mine!) 
Tbe rest I'd forget; or, if chanced to remember. 
They'd seem but the snow of a far off December; 
When scenting the blossom that swung at my lattice, 
The world I'd surrender — and the snow-flakes quite gratis ! 

But so often I'd sought them, so often unfound, 
I'd begun to suspect them but visions unsound. 
But the dreams of my heart, that would never coine true — 
Good to turn the head white, and the world to make blue. 

Now, gazing in wonder around me, I cry. 
Is it truth ? — Do I dream ? — and lo ! in the eye. 
The very bird that I heard, the very rose that I knew, 
When I dreamt of the bird and the rose ere it gi-ew ; 
And the sea that I scan, and the sky in my ken, 
Are the sea of my dreams and the sky I dreamed then ; 
And the sights and the sounds, that I hear that I view, 
It is all — it is naught, but my dreams come true ! 

Tlien think you in silence I will pass by the sight 
Of my dreams made true? No ! I will not, despite 
All the sages have sung them, with wit and with art; 
When each string that I strike is a string of my heart, 
And each note, that I fling on the breezes, a sigh. 



41 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

That to-morrow I leave them — yes, leave them to die ! 

To the waste and the barren again I must fare; 
But a moment's respite — I will live while I'm here ! 

Lo ! the current of years, on the instant, turns back ; 
For an instant, alas ! but an instant, alack ! 
The ashes are roses, the roses how fair! 
And lips that were dust, are now murmuring here : 
"0, to live is how sweet, and to love we were made I 
To hate is how ill, and to die is how sad P 

We listen enraptured, the springs are renewed, 
And in love-drops the heart, like a rose, is bedewed. 
Oh ! the hands that we touch ! oh ! the things that we see ! 
To call it a dream — what a fancy 't would be ! 

Then like Prospero's vision, the fair castles^ descend; 
And, of all, as he says, there is naught but the end : 
"But the end !" it must come — let it come when it will ! 
From the bosom of steel will the tear-drop distil; 
For an instant the eye is bedimmed — but no more, 
And, cleared of that tear-drop, shines more than before ! 

Then adieu to my Dreams ! — Fair Isle of the deep, 
Till I breathe the last sigh, till I sleep the last sleep, 
I will wish thee farewell, I will bid thee adieu : 
Fair Isle of the sea, where my dreams came true ! 



42 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



TO SLEEP 

FETCH me, Ariel, from that Isle 
Taught me that I yet could smile, 
To my brows and to my eyes, 

Drowsy dew. 
Such as in the blossom lies 
Where lay you ! 

Swiftly ! — I would be at rest : 
Such a turmoil's in my breast 
As the sea that thou must cross, 

Posting thither; 
But, tho' mountains on it toss, 
Hence and hither ! 

But, if you with Love should meet, 
On him cast the heavy sweet; 
Till each pinion, all his powers, 
Drowsied lie : 
Cause of all my sleepless Jiours — 
Rest will I ! ' 



43 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



TO A CREOLE GIRL 

FOIi^.IED for love and formed for loving, 
With a lantjuid eye inviting, 
Nothing fearing, naught reproving, 
Still delighted if delighting; 

Saffron cheeks and raven tresses. 

With a heart that only knows 
To yield kisses, to speak yesses, 

Never frowns and never noes; 

Soft of tongue and mild of feature. 

Kind, alluring, child of love, 
I have never known a creature 

Fairer, hy the gods above ! 

Would'st thou take me to that bosom. 

Who naught else hast e'er denied — 
As the bee goes to the blossom, 

As to the rock the tide, 



44 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

I would love tliee, love thee ever, 
Leave thee, nor deceive thee, 

Wander from thee, never, never: 
If 'tis "yes" I will believe thee. 

Speak it ! and, liy Jove and Juno ! 

I will linger but to find 
In thine e^^es, belle of Bermuda, 

All that I've resigned ! 



45 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



A RETROSPECT 

WHEN I lolled in fair Bermuda, 
With a damsel by my side, 
I imagined blesed Buddha, 

By his beaming Heavenly bride. 
Could not find more to content him 
Than we had in that little pent-in 
Golden Island of all isles! 

Not a day without a difference. 
Not a wave without a thrill; 

Till we often sought deliverance 
In a bower sweeter still. 

How we doted ! 

How we gloated ! 
Truth, sometimes the devil played; 

Till I often 

Thought a coffin 
Of that cedar would be made! 



46 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

Yet, we left it all behind us; 

But we never can forget, 
But a golden cord will bind us 

To tlie little Island, set 
Like an emerald in the waves, — 
Where the mist}' ocean raves, 
And the sun-god throv;s a moon-beam when he smiles ! 



47 



AVE, BERMUDA f 



THE ONE RULE 

WHEiV I was fond and foolish, 
And she was young and gay. 
There was but one sweet rule which 
We did not disobey: — 
'Twas kiss those hours away! 

Old Herrick says to gather 
The rose-buds wliile we may, 

Ere rough and wintry weather 
Takes all those buds away. 
Was wise even in his day. 

But, now that T grow wiser, 

And she is not so gay. 
How else would you advise her, 

If you were forced to say, — 

But kiss such hours away? 



48 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



TIIEKE MAY BE BBIGHTER SPOTS 

THEEE may be brighter spots, 
There may be fairer seas; 
There may be happier lots 
Th6n we enjoy in these; 

But since we do not know them, 
And since we may ne'er view tliem, 
We throw good wishes to tbem, 

And that is all we owe them. 

Of Greece and Eome I've heard, 
But yon, fair Isles, I view; 

And as that saint, that to one bird 
A thousand 3'ears did bend 
His ear unwearied, I could lend 
A thousand more to you ! 

There may be brighter spots 
(I'm sure the're many worse) 

The sun has spots, the're blots 
And blanks in Homer's verse : 



49 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

But he in one fair face 

Found all he'd hoped to gain, 

To not then stay the race, 
But wander all his life. 
Forsooth, to find his — wife. 

Would men suppose him sane? 

Then tho' the're other seas, 

And other isles may be 
Are fairer far than these — 

What'-< that to me? 

As foolish them to seek 

(Those distant Eoman or the Greek) 

As that mad lover were. 

Who having her in view, 

(As I this moment you) 
Should sigh, — but not to her ! 

Then, tho' the're other seas. 

And other isles may be 
Are fairer far than these — 

That's nauffht to me ! 



so 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



TPiE return: a prospect 

HITHEE once I wandered 
Long ago, here leaving, 
(Took but what I've squandered) 
All I had worth giving, 
Left — a heart ! 

Xow for it I come, 

For it and a tomb : 
Where the bowers bloom, 

Or billows foam ! 

If thy store be narrow, 
Death, to-day, to-morrow, 

Love will lend an arrow : 
Gio, and of him borrow, 
Aim and dart ! 



51 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

ON FORT "CATHERINE" 

THERE'vS silence on her darkened walls! 
There's stillness in her gnns ! 
Not hers to roar the farewell calls. 
Or welcome to the sim's; 

Still like a veteran, who yet keeps 

His armor by his side, 
Upon her broken lanyard sleeps, 

This Amazon of the tide ! 

"Victoria" o'er her proudly looks. 

As younger sister might, 
Who, in aspiring, illy brooks 

An elder sister's right; 

But, as in ton we often view 

The vainer far less fair, 
So "Catherine's" charms far outdo you, 

A^ictorious — but not here! 

Thine is the glory of the morn, 
But naught can hers now mar: 

For thee the scoffing foe to scorn, 
Her's is the peace of Vt^ar ! 



52 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



TILE TWO MURRAYS 

BEING in .1 foaming tankard, 
That might a galleon float ! 
Here's the road where Murray anchored ! 
Here's the sheets that Murray wrote ! 

He tossed, in doubt and error. 

From Webster Point to Johnson's, 

And he is tossed, in terror. 
On ocean's utter nonsense : 

How gladly one man finds 
Surcease to his sea-sorrows; 

The other for his mind's 

Repose from Murray borrows. 

Then here's where Murray anchored, 
And here's where :Murray wrote : 

Fetch in a brim-full tankard— 
We'll drink, and then we'll quote ! 



AVE. BERMUDA! 



M 



EX LIBRIS LIBER 



Y friend Frith has this, uncommon, 
In modern days to be a Roman : 
Shamed of his heart, he seldom shows it. 
And is polite — when no one knows it! 
Yet, squeeze him hard, and you will find 
There's sweet enousrh beneath the rhind. 



Stiffer than a quarto, 

Mustier than a tome ; 
Drier than a quart o' 

\Yhat husbands drink at home; 

Wiser than a gnomo. 
Prouder than a Ctesar : 
A room he rules at pleasure, 

As Crt^sar ruled hi? Rome ! 



S4 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



THANKS 

FULL of thanks I am to Frith ; 
Yet, sliouid I once dare to tell him, 
As I would tell Jones or Smith, 

"Hell !" methinks how he would Hell him ! 

So I'll leave 'em, fairly written, 

On his desk (they'll make a ream!) 

For, he is so good a Briton, 

When he smiles no one one must see him. 

Thus I will be.i^in : "Your Honour," . . . 

(Spell it with a "u" to please him) 
Ending with "an 'umble son, your . . ." 

(Spelt without an "h"' to tease him!) 

Thro' his window peeps a flower. 

To his shutter wings a breeze: 
May they utter, every hour, 

Tiianks — not these ! 



55 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

TO ROSE 

OFEAR not, sigh not, 
"To-morrow we part !" 
They may wander, bnt fly not, 
Who bear but one heart ! 

Still, the longer 'tis bent. 
The more force has the bow ; 

And this absence is meant 

But for that we should know; 

As Cupid well knew. 

When his aim he would narrow. 
That the longer he drew 

The more force had the arrow: 

And so long did he draw. 
And so good was his aim. 

That the wound will be raw 
Till quite cold is the game! 

Then fear not, sigh not! 

When true lovers part, 
They may wander, but fly not, 

Wlio bear the same heart! 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

THE STREAM OF TIME 

WHEX thy head, like a blossom, reposed on my bosom, 
And my lips drank the wine that distilled but from 
thine, 
When time seemed a river, whose only endeavour 
Was to flow on and go on without caring wliither; 

Then it seemed that to borrow of care or of sorrow 

Was concerning one's self far too much with to-morrow; 

So we basked, and we asked not for crowns or for glory, 
And the task that we took was but — never to worry ! 

But time is a stream that belongs to the ocean, 

And tho' here we may dream, as it never had motion. 

Anon will these dreams be or blasted or broken. 
And the rock holds a wreck, or the wave shows a token ! 

But while yet we can dream, ere a rock is in view, 
It is certainly the wisest of things we can do. — 

But awake ! my beloved, there's an end to our rest. 
For the rocks are in view, and the sun's in the west ! 

But those hearts, that have dreamed on that river together, 
Have tasted its blisses, will not fear for its fall; 

But closer, and closer, as they bent for those kisses, 
Will thev take it, nor shake at, the end — if that's all! 



57 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



IN love's defense 

O THINK not, say not, that Love's but a Dream, 
That spreads its bright pinions, yet spreads but to fly ; 
That, in truth, we should know, did we rightfully deem. 
That, as snow to the water, it comes but to die ! 

Tho' true, that his rosy young wings he will lose. 
As the butterfly does, in the heart to repose ; 

But he can never die, while a leaf in it grows. 

And there's silk in his bed when the butterfly goes ! 

Then, say not that Love is a Fancy, a Thing, 

That but flits round the roses of thought for the dew ; 

As the humming-bird does without resting a wing. 

When you point your wise finger — to point where it flew ! 

Like that music the sages devised for the stars, 
Never heard but by ear that the flesh never mars. 

Lives the music of love in that shell of the heart: 
To thy heart lift it up — and that music Avill start ! 

Then think not, say not &c. 



S8 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

O THINK NOT FOR THIS 

OTHIXK not for tins, that my brows are oft lowering, 
My heart never throbs to the wild notes of joy; 
Tho' the worm lodged beneath would be ever devouring, 
Even he — even he — cannot always annoy ! 

When I stray by the shore, with the breakers before me, 
When I pause 'neath a sky such as this — such as this ! 

When I glance on such eyes as are now beaming o'er me, 
This is bliss, then I say — this is bliss ! 

Tho' the happy, the lucky, have never felt sorrow. 

Such as darkened the brow which you chanced to glance over. 

Who, ne'er sighing to-day, never sighed for to-morrow, 
It is he, — it is he — that I own may discover, 

In the waste of the sands much more than can I; 

Still enough, while is left me these strings to explore, 
For a space — for a space — then backward to fly 

To the wild shore again — let it roar, let it roar ! 

Let him sip, let him sip — it's for him, it's for him! 

But, tho' Love fill it up, let him sigli, let him sigh, 
He may lose in the dregs what he found at the brim ! 

Then back to the breakers, with me, let him fly ! 



59 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



SOXG OF THE EXILES 

i( 'T^A KE a Jute and round it 

1 I'ew and ivy twine! 
And when thus you've bound it 
Up to vie resign! 

From my breast Vll string it, 
And each cord shall be, 

And each note they bring it. 
One of memory!" 

Thus when Valor leaves his 

One loved shore, 
Whate'er sod receives his 

Footstep sore. 

Oft, from all retiring, 
On some wild dark eve, 

Save like hearts desiring 
With his own to grieve : 



60 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

If e'er custom skilled him 
To explore such strings, 

When fond memory's thrilled him, 
May be thus he sings : 

"Take a hde and round it! 
&c" 

Or again, despising 

All the skill he has, 
With the tempest rising, 

Thus he says: 

"Wrecl- and ruin on the waves 
Wrech and I'uin on each hand! 

Roar it, oceun, to thy caves! 
Shriek it, cavern, to thy strand! 

Tear the ivy from it, tear it! 

Tear the yew, each siring ; 
Deeper than e'er plummet, hear it, 

In the ocean fling!" 



6i 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

Else, the wild mood melted, 

He will take that lute, 
Bepair the harm he delt it, 

Sing — or be mute: 

^'Here the weary wanderers came, 
Thus the weary wanderers pined; 
Leaving all they loved behind. 

Losing all — hut deathless fame!" 

Eoll it, ocean, to each caye, 

Speak it, caverns, to the strand, 

'A paean to the exiled brave, — 
Without a land! 



62 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



THE DEAD SHIP 

IS there no pine, in all the high-topped woods, 
1 Will his green state resign, 

To sear and shiver 'neath the stars? 
Is there no fleecy field 
Will canvas yield. 
If forest mast and spars. 
And give her to the floods again? 
And let her find a grave, 
Even when she did brave 
Tlie storms of all the main ! 

Else from the shore blow, Tempest, such a gust 
As drove her in ; 
And, when she founders, 
Curl all thy billows to a smile, 
01(1 Ocean! 



63 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



LINES WEITTEN IX ST, GEORGE S CHANXEIi 

HERE of old winged Soiners in, 
Here as well did Moore depart, 
Leaving N"ea fame to win — 

Somers leaves, but not his heart ! 

Here to-day doth Dargan drift: 
Who shall say what he shall find? 
A brow for laurels not designed, 

A heart as cold as Somers left ! 

So but like Somers he may fall, 

The laurels — spare them, stubborn Fate ! 

All save the sea-weed, and the call 
He loved — old Ocean at the gate ! 



64 



H 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



ox abbotsford" 

ERE Glory for a In-ief ppace smiled, 
Having once a votary here beguiled : 
Anon she goes, and leaves 
Broken wall and eaves, — 
A moral and a wild. 



TO ox SAYIXG FAREWELL 



D 



ID you know my heart was breaking, 
When I aped at cold leave-taking — 
Did you know? 



Did you guess how much it cost me. 
When a light kiss back I tossed thee — 
' Did you? — Yes! 

And you knew it? and you let me? 
And you tliink that you'll forget me?- 
Can you do it? 



65 



./ 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



LINES SUGGESTED OX VIEWING A EUINKD WALL 

WHO has not seen that smile that creeps upon 
The tortured lips when they grow cold and wan ? 
As tho' an Angel, flying o'erhead, 
Had downward cast his shadow on the dead ! 

So Ruin seems skin to Death in this: 
To, ofttimes, fairer make what he doth kiss. 

Even ills oft turn to goods, when once resigned 
To memory — the ruins of the mind; 
And Present, turned the Past, we still recall 
Wearing a graceful moss, lilce vonder wall. 



66 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



TO FITZ-GREENE HALLECK 

SOX of a cold and barren clime, 
Like flower on the Noi*way strand, 
Flung there to bloom in leaves of rhyme. 
As it in that bleak land ! 

tStout-hearted and brave son of verse, 
While lessers steal thy bays the while, 

I can not even now but curse, — 
Thou did'st but smile ! 

Yet merit like to tbine will live, 
And gather fame from future Days ; 

While shame, alike for those who give 
And take their praise ! 

Thy monument is safe: it is 

Thy own fine line, which few can touch : 
For one that can, an hundred miss. 

For few are such ! 



67 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

Thy name is;, too, of that thin host 
Will reach at last their aim, 

While brothers fall at every post — 
Their Rome of fame ! 

Contented, let the few who love 
Spare scorn, and only seek to be 

As far from them, who disapprove 
A man like thee! 



68 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



MOORE's farewell to BERMUDA* 

FAERY Isles! blissful Isles! 
Lilied land and livid ocean, 
Where all Heaven above you smiles 
Like a lover in devotion ! 

Jeweled wave and bowered strand ! 

Where freed Ariel ever plays, 
Having finished each command 

Which old Prosper on him lays : 

Tho' my canvas wing should bear me 
To the furthest shore of all, 

And tho' other sights would cheer me, 
And tho' other voices call, 

Still wherever I be going, 
And whatever scenes I view, 

As the waves around you flowing, 
W^ill my thoughts encircle you! 



69 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

Xor a breeze that blows above ye 
But a sigh from me will bring; 

For there's naught on earth can move me 
Like yon fluttering canvas wing ! 

Faery Isles ! blissful Isles ! 

I must bid you now adieu; 
But, by Heaven above you smiles, 

I have left mv heart with vou ! 



*It is to be deplored that Moore composed no adieu to Bermuda. 
I liave attempted to supply the deficiency. 



70 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



"rule, BRITANNIA 



I LIKE old England's solid ways, 
I hate the days we fought her ; 
A shilling in my pocket stays 
Far longer than a quarter! 

Fair ways I much prefer to square, 
"God save the King!" soimds sweeter; 

And, bless my soul ! since I am here 
I'm turned a roast-beef eater! 

I like her style o' doing things- 
She never under-does it: 

The land o' Democratic Kings— 
Xot like where we now muss it. 

I lii^e— but then 'twere "treason !" yet 
I'll say, with Patrick Henry, 

In life or death if I forget,— 
You'll know I've lost my memoiy ! 



71 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

I like — these likes are like to bring 

Me into much misliking: 
Then for my neck-verse let me sing. 

And, swinging, I'll be striking! 

I like the tea-pot — d. , . .n the tea 
They threw in Boston harbour ! 

I could endure a Jubilee, 
And only hate the barber ! 

But, tho' no "bark" has Byron seen, 
Xo "boat" to waft him thither; 

As Hamlet says, there's a "machine" 
Stays nor for tide nor weather; 

That rhymes must cease; for I must back 
To Jack Frost and "Old Glory" :— 

Who pulls down yonder Union Jack, 
l^nlls down — but that's a story ! 

One toast: I'll toast it in the ale, 

That patriotic liquor: 
Tho' Yankee Doodles on you rail. 

On, England! — we'll not flicker! 



72 



AVE, BEBMUDA! 

Adieu to friends; if any foes, 
The like to them I'd tell : 

A lover from your Island goes- 
To one and all, fai-ewell ! 



7?, 



AVE, BERMUDA! 



NEX TRIUMPHALIS 

SPEAK ! cannon, from thy rampart high, 
Xo festal note, yet one as loud. 
Peace ! to the hero in his dank sea-shroud, 
Peace ! to the mother on the shore. 
Peace ! to the bride of a moon before. 
To all who wait and sigh ! 

II. 

Wake, melancholy harp ! where'er a master's hand 
Thy numbers can command : 
^^^ly so long dumb? 
When many a minstrel welters 'neath the foam 

Of yon loud sea ! 
Wake all thy powers, and set thy hushed grief free ! 

III. 
Come, every maid, with flowers, strew them 
Wliere the salt spray will bedew them, 

Till decked is every wave, 
And music smooths their wide and watery grave ! 



74 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

IV. 

But what of liim who shrank 
When Duty called the true; 

And without station, rank, 
They answered as men do? 

V. 

BcH to his rest is sinking, 
Phillips, the unshrinking, 
Drifts to Lethe fast: 
They will "suffer a sea change 
Into something rich and strange ;" 
While he will suffer naught, 
Unless to Justice hrought. 
And hy her stripes is taught 
To feel at last! 

VI. 

A Bruce! could that not turn him 
From dastard thoughts of shore? 

Then shame can never hurn him; 
Yet Law at least may teach him, 
If justice once but reach him, 

What 'twas the brave Bruce wore ! 



75 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

VII. 

Land of the brave, our native land! 
Is this the soil for him to tread? 
Where Custer bled, 
Where Stuart led ! 
By all the living and the dead, 
The Gray, the Blue, 
The tried and true, 
Who always stood, or stand ! 

VIII. 

Proud air that flaunts the uneonquered flag! 
Is this the air for such as he? 
Once breathed by thee, 
Intrepid Lee; 
That Adams woke, and Liberty 
In Henry drew, 
And fired those few 
Who only feared to lag ! 

IX. 

Where are thy petticoats and gown? 
Assume the stoop that saved thee, when, 
'Mid manless maid and mateless wife. 
Thou souglit'st to save that trash — thy life! 



76 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

Stand not upright like other men ! 

What ! crouch and crawl, as thou didst then I 
Why shouldst thou ape a lordlier state 
Than he who slipped through Eden's gate — 
Thy kindred or thy mate — 

Down, to thy fellows, down ! 

X. 

And shall he bask 'neath heaven to-da}^ 
Wanned, cheered by such a glorious ray, 
While the sea-damp on Butt is freezing, 
And cold is Astor's bed? 
Forgive us. Heaven ! but, if our prayers, be pleasing — 
A thunder-bolt, instead ! 

XI. 

Eest to the thousand braves who lie below ! 
All honor to them show ! 

Let music steal from every eye 

A tear, from every breast a sigh. 
Each hand a flower throw I 

When Beauty weeps o'er Bravery, 

Eaitli dotli with Heaven vie! 



77 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

Let Heaven to Earth reply : 
All honor to them and undying fame ! 
To imitate them only be our aim ; 
Who died so well deserve that no man blame ! 

XII. 

But one alone of all 
That throng for scorn doth call : 
Who fell so far since Satan took his fall? 
Oh! that his fortune were the same. 

And he as low did lie ! 
"The Bribce that led the flight to shame, 
While Honor stayed to die! — 

Him never name, 
Unless to hiss and cry, 
The Bruce that led the flight to shame. 
While Honor stayed to die!" 

XIII. 

Speak ! England, then thy best ; 
We'll answer with the rest, 

Till the round world shall swell. 

O'er land and wave, 
The heroes' long farewell — 
God save the brave! 



78 



AVE, BERMUDA! 

XIV. 

Speak! trvmipets; echo, scarp ant! moat! 

Peal, cannon, roar on roar ! 
Answer, ye heavens, high note for note. 

And shore shall answer shore ! 
All lienor to the rlaimtless hraves, 

^Yho homeward come no more ! 
Sunk 'neath the tongues of a thousand waves. 

Yet raised on a million score ! 

Speal, trumpets, cannon, roar on roar. 
And shore shall ansvjer shore! 

XV. 

Rest to tlie thousand braves ! and let him — rot ! 

Eememlier them, and let liim he — forgot! 



79 



INDEX 



OF 

INITIAL LINES. 

Page, 

A Garden of Eden — without a garden 14 

As the cloud on the cheek of the heavenly Luna 22 

"Ave, Bermuda !" sang I when 9 

Beside these still waters, you so much admire 28 

Bring in a foaming tankard 53 

Did you know my heart was breaking 65 

Faery Isles ! blissful Isles 6g 

Fair Florence divine, a real nightingale seemed 20 

Fair Isle of my Dreams, how often, when fired 37 

Fair Tree ! whose sweet, benignant shade 10 

Fetch me, Ariel, from that Isle 43 

For him seeks distinction, or would hang up his name 25 

Formed for love, and formed for loving 44 

For the bards transcendent, have glory 32 

Full of thanks I am to Frith 55 

Here Glory for a brief space smiled 65 

Here of old winged Somers in 64 

Hither once I wandered 51 

I do not care to write 34 

If a dove did actually pilot Tom Moore 21 

I like old England's solid ways 71 

I met a fellow swearing that it cost him "very dear"' 17 

I saw them yesternight vi. 

Is there no pine in all the high-topped woods 63 

Like the century plant that a century consumes 21 



80 



INDEX 

"Many a green isle needs must be" 36 

My friend Frith has this, uncommon 54 

'Neath a palm that extended his green hands to Heaven 27 

Never Nereid ever swam 16 

O fear not, O sigh not 56 

O tell me not 24 

O think not for this, that my brows are oft lowering 59 

O think not, O say not, that Love's but a Dream 58 

Son of a cold and barren clime 67 

Speak, cannon, from thy rampart high 74 

Steal softly, Time ! thy foot is near 12 

■'Take a lute, and round it" 60 

There may be brighter spots 49 

There's silence on her darkened w-alls 52 

Think not, for this 23 

Thro' bark and bole he gropes his way 13 

Were you a fair bark of the Ocean, my dear 26 

What a name ! "Lolla Rookh"' 22 

When I lolled in fair Bermuda 46 

When I took up this pen and imbrued it vv'ith ink 25 

When I was fond and foolish 48 

When thy head, like a blossom, reposed on my bosom 57 

Who has not seen that smile that creeps upon 66 

Yes, '"change" is everywhere 29 



FJNJS. 



PRINTED BY GRAHAM PRESS 



m 30 1913 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

015 905 261 8 




- 



